Hockey in Pegasus?
by dwparsnip
Summary: Keller decides that some people in Atlantis need to get in shape and suggests some sports activities would be a help. Naturally, Rodney suggests hockey...
1. Chapter 1

I have no idea where this came from. It's silly really, so try not to take it seriously. It's based a little on hockey (I am Canadian after all), so if your favorite sport is shunned or demonized in this fic, please don't take it personally.

I don't own Stargate Atlantis or any of its characters…MGM does.

I would appreciate any and all feedback, be it positive, negative or ambivalent. Really, it doesn't take too much of your time to say a little something does it?

Has not been run through a beta, so I take full responsibility for any typos, errors, etc.

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"Anything else?" asked Sam, as she did at the end of every morning staff meeting.

"Yes there is, actually."

Colonel Samantha Carter looked over to Dr. Jennifer Keller and suppressed a grimace. She'd been doing a lot of hiding her feelings since taking over command of Atlantis, especially negative feelings, and even now she wasn't sure of how good a job she was doing at it. The mixture of apology and sympathy easily evident on Keller's face only added to her uncertainty in that regard.

"Go ahead, Jennifer."

Jennifer leaned forward in her chair and folded her hands together on the table. "We need to do something to help some of Atlantis' personnel to get into better shape."

"Come on, Doc," said Sheppard from two seats to her right. He leaned back in his chair and smiled, "Most of our people are in great shape. They have to be to even get here." He glanced slyly to Rodney at the opposite end of the table as he added, "Granted some of us are a little pudgy but…"

"Why did you look at me when you said that?" demanded Rodney loudly from his seat. "I'll have you know that my BMI is well within the acceptable range for a man my age."

"Whatever you say, Rodney," Sheppard said. His playfully taunting tone of voice said he didn't believe it for a second.

"The point is," Jennifer interrupted loudly to get their attention, "is that with the nature of this base and the work that goes on here," she looked to Sheppard, "it wouldn't hurt to have something that can motivate people to stay in shape or get into better shape."

"Do we not already have programs available to help people if they want it?" asked Teyla from her seat between Sheppard and Keller.

"Exercise programs, yes," answered Jennifer as she turned to Teyla. "There's a group of scientists that does yoga; there's a group Marines that does Tae Bo and other groups that do similar programs. The thing is the people that are most likely to avail themselves of those programs have used similar programs before. It seems to me that most of the people in the city who might want to try or need to try to get fit might not feel comfortable in those programs. They might be inclined to exercise more if it were done in a sports setting as opposed to a regimented exercise program setting." She smiled and looked to Sam. "It's all in the fun and competition. It could also be a great relief valve for the pressure we're constantly under."

Sam smiled back at Jennifer and glanced around the table. Ronon seemed to be mostly ambivalent about the whole idea. Rodney seemed to be in a place somewhere between disgust and mortification. Teyla didn't seem to be interested, but appeared to favor the idea if it would help. Sheppard looked positively gleeful, and Jennifer looked hopeful and somewhat expectant.

"I can't see why we couldn't," Sam announced after considering it for a moment. "Any suggestions as to which sports we could consider?"

"Football," announced Sheppard immediately, eliciting a groan from Rodney who then asked weakly, "I don't suppose you'd consider chess a sport worthy of consideration?"

"No and no," answered Sam which drew instant and nearly identical groans of protest from Rodney and John. "I don't imagine there's a room big enough for a football field," explained Sam to John, "and chess is hardly something that would give you any amount of exercise Rodney."

"It's exercise for the mind," said a defiant Rodney.

"First of all chess is not a sport, and second it's not your mind that needs to lose a couple of pounds," said Sheppard with a grin.

"I told you my BMI…"

"Any other suggestions?" interrupted Sam as she gave warning glances to Sheppard and McKay.

"I guess baseball is out," thought Sheppard out loud. "What about basketball? A basketball court is smaller than a football or baseball field."

"What's basketball?" asked Ronon.

Sheppard looked to the big man sitting next to Rodney and explained. "Basketball is a sport where you try to shoot," he regretted the word immediately when Ronon's eyes lit up like beacons and clarified, "**toss **a ball into a rim that isn't much bigger on the round than the ball and is ten feet up in the air."

"How's that exercise?" asked Ronon with a frown.

"Well, there's lots of running involved between two baskets situated at either end of a twenty-eight meter court," said Sheppard.

"Any physical contact?"

"There is some…incidental…contact but it's not technically permitted, no," replied Sheppard who ignored Ronon's disappointed look. "Too much contact is a foul, which could give you a free shot at the basket."

"What about hockey?" suggested McKay suddenly.

"Figures you'd bring that up?" said Sheppard.

"Oh come on," said McKay incredulously. "Please tell me that isn't some sort of stereotype you're perpetuating over there, because that would be rich coming from someone whose first, second and third suggestions were football, baseball and basketball."

Sheppard took the rebuke in stride by nodding the point to Rodney as Ronon asked, "What's hockey?"

"A game played on ice," said Sheppard before Rodney could explain. "You wear skates, which are shoes with blades on the bottom of them to go up and down a sheet of ice and try to put a little round piece of rubber into a net with a stick."

"Well we obviously wouldn't be playing **ice** hockey now would we?" asked Rodney. "It could be floor hockey, either with a floor hockey puck or a ball." Rodney thought for a moment before snapping his fingers wildly at no one in particular and said, "Of course it wouldn't be that difficult to set up some ice! It would only take…"

"Rodney," Sam said with an amazing amount of patience, "no."

"Stick?" asked Ronon, showing his first sign of real interest in the discussion.

"Easy big fella," said Sheppard with a smile. "You're not allowed to hit anyone with the stick."

"Sounds as bad as basketball," said a deflated Ronon as he folded his arms across his chest.

"There's more skill involved," said Rodney instantly. He turned to Keller and pointed to her excitedly, "It involves a fair amount of hand eye coordination as well as cardio."

Keller graced Rodney with a genuine smile. It wasn't often she saw that type of enthusiasm from him, and when she had seen it before it was almost exclusively related to work. Almost. Besides that, if she had bet beforehand on whether or not Rodney McKay would get excited about a sport, she apparently would have lost. "I don't see anything wrong with basketball, and hockey would be okay I suppose," she agreed, "though for safety sake I'd have to insist on very limited checking if any at all."

At the strange looks she got from Rodney and John she shrugged and said with a smile that made them both feel like idiots, "I'm from Wisconsin…I know what hockey is."

"Checking?" asked Ronon.

"You can use your body to hit someone else to remove them from the play or gain position, with some restrictions, of course," explained Rodney. "There are only certain times you can check someone and certain ways to do it."

"Sounds better than basketball," Ronon said and Rodney smiled in triumph while Sheppard sighed.

Sam looked at everyone and shrugged her shoulders. "All right, see how much interest there is in the idea of starting recreational basketball and floor hockey leagues. Actually, see what interest there'd be in any other sports as well. If there's enough interest we'll see what we can do." She turned to Jennifer. "It's your department, Doctor."

Keller nodded as everyone else stood up. She gathered her things together and stood up as well only to find Rodney standing beside her chair looking at her with a look of what she thought was an air of delight.

"So," he said as they began to walk out of the conference room together, "what else do you know about hockey?"

Tbc?


	2. Chapter 2

Here it is…chapter two...finally (silly site kept screwing up the formatting!) The author's notes from the last chapter still stands, especially the copyright info (just in case they're watching!) and except for the beta part, as Kipling-Nori has done me the favor of doing the beta thing for this chapter. Thanks a million K-N!!

Another little addition as well. Some of you have asked about or mentioned some McKay and Keller shippiness. I hadn't planned on doing a whole lot about it, but when I wrote this it just came naturally. We'll see where it goes…if anywhere.

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and thank you all for reading.

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"You know she's never going to go for it," Sheppard drawled with far too much enthusiasm.

Out of instinct Rodney covered the tablet he'd been working on for a while, even though he knew the damage had already been done. Rodney glanced around him for the first time since arriving in the mess hall after waking up with yet one more universe altering idea. Unlike it had been then, the mess was nearly full of people. All around him civilians and soldiers were milling about looking for tables, or sitting at tables eating and talking to friends and colleagues. He looked to his watch and a groan shot out of his mouth before he could even think about trying to stop it. It was already nine thirty and he'd been working non-stop on his little idea for nearly three hours.

Remembering that Sheppard was standing next to him, Rodney looked up to him and did what he usually did when Sheppard managed to sneak up on him: insult his intelligence. "Oh please," he said with as much condescension as he could muster after digesting only three cups of coffee, "like **you** could possibly have any inkling as to how someone as brilliant as Samantha Carter would think."

Sheppard smiled and slapped Rodney on his right shoulder before moving over to sit at the table directly across from him. "Maybe. I guess we'll find out." Sheppard picked up Rodney's unused fork and poked at the untouched breakfast situated on the table between them. "What is this supposed to be?" asked Sheppard seriously.

Rodney, his attention already refocused back onto the tablet and his project, lifted the tablet up higher so that Sheppard couldn't see him and muttered something unintelligible.

Sheppard looked at the plate again and said, "That's what I thought." He dropped the fork unceremoniously onto the plate and folded his arms across his chest. Rodney needed a distraction, and as luck would have it, one was about to walk by. He waved to catch her attention and smiled when she waved back at him. He motioned to an empty seat next to Rodney and smiled again when she nodded knowingly.

"So, Rodney," asked Sheppard when he saw her begin to head towards their table, "what's going on with you and Keller?"

Rodney lifted his head just high enough to be able to glare at Sheppard over the top of the tablet. "What makes you think anything is going on?"

Sheppard shrugged and said, "You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, that's all. I was just curious."

"She's a great doctor and valued colleague," he said, reciting what really amounted to what a politician would have called towing the party line.

"That's it?" asked Sheppard. The way he asked and the way his eyebrows rose was all Rodney needed to know that Sheppard wouldn't leave it there.

He narrowed his eyes and then pulled the tablet back up to conceal his face from Sheppard. "She's a friend," said Rodney. He lowered the tablet again and gave Sheppard another glare. "A better friend than you, I might add." He lifted the tablet again. "She doesn't ask me silly questions, or bother me when I'm working, or get people I've never met before shooting at me."

Sheppard actually laughed at that. It was all true of course, but that wasn't the point. "Rodney," he said with false surprise lacing his voice, "you like her!"

Rodney lowered the tablet to the table with less care than he meant to or should have and leaned back in his chair. "Really, Colonel, I said she was a friend. How did your juvenile mind get from that simple statement that I like her? Must you always try to read more into a situation than is really there? That's how you always get into so much trouble."

Sheppard repressed the grin that was dying to get out at the fact that he'd just managed to trap his friend in the proverbial web- it really was too easy sometimes. Instead he adopted a curious expression as he placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Does that mean you don't like her?"

Rodney sighed in frustration and implored any deity that would listen to grant him the strength and patience to put up with John Sheppard. "No, Colonel, that doesn't mean that I don't like her. Try to keep up, please. If she's my friend, and I have said that she is, then I must like her. Do you have any friends that you don't like?"

"No," admitted Sheppard. "So you do like her?"

Rodney sighed again. "Yes," he said finally as he grabbed the tablet off the table. "I like her. There…you happy?"

Sheppard finally smiled so widely it nearly hurt. He looked past Rodney and said with a mixture of smugness, satisfaction and amusement, "Hey, Doc…have a seat."

For the third time in one minute Rodney tested his lung capacity by inhaling and expressing an impressive amount of hot air in another sigh and said, "Oh come on! You don't expect me to believe that she's standing right behind me, do you? Really, Colonel. How gullible do you think I am?"

Rodney glared at the Colonel in unhidden and unfettered exasperation waiting for an answer, until someone pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. _"Oh crap,"_ thought Rodney as he turned to his left to see the brown eyes of Jennifer Keller looking at him. She had a strange smile on her face, the kind of smile that told him that he didn't have to ask or guess exactly how much of Sheppard's grilling she heard.

"Thank you, Colonel," Jennifer said with a nod in his direction. She looked down to Rodney's plate and a small frown appeared where just a scant moment earlier a beautiful smile had been. "You haven't touched your breakfast, Rodney. Everything okay?"

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded as he was by the ridiculously simple question. "Yes, thank you, I'm fine." He looked back down at the tablet still miraculously in his hands and said, "I'm not hungry. And busy. Not hungry and busy." He raised the tablet and turned it towards her so that she could see what was on it. "See? Just busy…and not hungry." He flashed her a nervous smile before placing the tablet on the table again and looking over to see Sheppard staring at him as though he had ten heads. "What?" he demanded of Sheppard, who only exacerbated Rodney's mood with a pained shake of his head. Keller hid her smile by taking a bite out of a slice of toast.

Sheppard, still receiving a perplexed and very annoyed glare from Rodney rolled his eyes and turned to Keller. "So, Doc, any progress on the sports thing?"

Jennifer took a sip of her steaming coffee, and after placing the mug on her tray she said, "The response has been amazing! I sent out the information to the department heads yesterday after the staff meeting and got responses almost immediately. It was…really…quite…," she finally stopped when she realized that both Rodney and Sheppard had nearly identical baffled looks upon their faces. "Didn't you two get the e-mail?"

"Well, you see the thing is…," began Sheppard at the same time Rodney said, "Usually I don't bother…"

They both stopped and looked at each other, and in what was usually a scary thing for most people to witness they appeared to telepathically have a discussion and agree to something. There was no telepathy of course, and Jennifer knew it.

It wasn't scary either.

But it was a little weird.

Sheppard had the good grace to appear embarrassed as he said first, "Lorne usually takes care of that stuff for me. I don't like to get bogged down in the paperwork area of the job."

Jennifer gave Sheppard a look of mild disapproval and turned her gaze to Rodney. Unlike Sheppard, he didn't appear to be embarrassed as much as he appeared to be very uncomfortable at being busted.

He noticed that she was looking at him and he muttered, "I'm too busy to be reading every single message that comes through our system, and make no mistake there are dozens every hour ranging from power requests to repair work. Seriously, we should get some sort of spam protection built into the system."

Keller opened her mouth to say something when a voice in her right ear stopped her. She put her hand up to her ear and activated the comm. unit and said, "Go ahead."

Rodney and John watched Keller take the call and a moment later she stood up. "Needed in the infirmary," she said by way of explanation. "See you later."

She placed her left hand on Rodney's shoulder as she turned away and he stiffened out of reflex, not out of any sort of discomfort.

Sheppard smiled at Rodney who ignored him and went back to work on the tablet.

Deciding to shelve the Keller issue for the moment he said, "When are you going to talk to her?"

Rodney looked up and partially turned around to point in the direction in which Keller had gone. "I just talked to her."

Sheppard shook his head and said, "Carter. When are you going to talk to Carter about," he motioned to the tablet with his right hand, "your thing?"

"Oh. In a few minutes."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know she'll say no, Rodney." His smile got a little wider as he leaned back in chair, stretched his legs out in front of him and added, "The fact that she already said no might be a fairly good hint."

Rodney grunted. "It's been almost twenty-four hours, Colonel." He looked up and graced Sheppard with one of his better 'I can do anything' smiles. "After she sees what I've come up with, there's no way she'll be able to say no."

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"No, Rodney."

"But all we have to do set up a retaining wall. We can even use…"

"No, Rodney."

"There's even a fast freezing system in one of the labs..."

"No, Rodney."

"The power demands won't even be an issue since…"

"No, Rodney."

"But you won't even hear me out!"

Sam looked up from the one page report she'd been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes and sighed loudly. Ordinarily she found her chair quite comfortable; plenty of padding for the derriere and wonderful lumbar support, but with Rodney McKay bearing down on her like there was no tomorrow, it had become very uncomfortable indeed. "I know what's involved, Rodney." She held up her right hand to forestall the impending argument that was no doubt about to erupt from his mouth and tried to let some and not all of her frustration into her voice. "I know." She smirked at McKay and added, "I may not be a you but I'm not **that** far off."

"Look it really isn't that…"

"No, Rodney."

Rodney grunted contritely and sat down in the chair opposite Sam and began to pout in a way that would do any four year old proud.

"Look, Rodney, it's not quite as easy as you're making it out to be. Oh I know that compared to some of the projects we currently have ongoing it's relatively easy, but it's still problematic. For example, who's going to create and maintain the ice? You?"

Rodney raised his chin a little and said, "Well…yes."

Sam stood up and walked around her desk, and when she stood in front of Rodney she leaned back and rested against the desk, using her hands to support herself on the desk. "As you constantly point out you don't have enough time in the day to do your work as it is." She folded her arms across her chest and waited a heartbeat for that to register and continued. "And it wouldn't be fair to saddle anyone with that responsibility. We're all busy. Besides, the response to the idea of a sports league has been phenomenal." Sam reached behind her and picked up a piece of paper off her desk, turned back to face Rodney and read from the paper. "Basketball, soccer, tennis, bowling and, of course hockey, are just some of the suggestions."

"Bowling?" asked Rodney incredulously. "You've got to be kidding? That would be…"

"As ridiculous as setting up a hockey…thing?" asked Sam with a raised eyebrow.

"Rink," informed Rodney automatically.

"Whatever," said Sam. "Look, Rodney, besides the time required to maintain the ice, there's the fact that despite the massive size of the city, large spaces are at a premium. Most of the rooms we have that are large enough to house hockey rinks, basketball courts and whatever else may be needed and wanted are being used as storage areas for all sorts of things, including MALPS, weapons and scientific equipment." Sam dropped the paper to her desk, folded her hands together and let them rest against her stomach. "Because of that the room or rooms we choose will probably end up housing more than one sport." She adopted a lopsided grin. "It would be kind of hard to play basketball in the same room as ice hockey, wouldn't it?"

Rodney looked up to Sam and found himself agreeing with her, as much as it galled him. "Fine," he stated as neutrally as he could. He stood up and headed for the door, pausing long enough to half turn towards her and say, "Thank you for thinking about it."

Before Sam could even register that Rodney McKay had just thanked her even though she refused his request, he was halfway through the control room.

All she could do was shake her head and smile.

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Sheppard walked into the lab and took a look around. It was odd enough that Rodney was not in the main lab, that is to say he wasn't in his usual haunting ground, and when Zelenka told him that Rodney was in this seldom used lab, he couldn't help but be curious. He stepped in farther and walked up to a counter-like workstation and did a double take. On the other side of the counter directly across from him was a hockey net staring him straight in the face.

"What do you think?" came a voice from off to the right.

Sheppard turned his head in that direction and didn't see anyone, until he looked past the counter to see another, as yet uncompleted, net. He followed the structure down to the floor and narrowed his eyes in confusion when he saw a pair of legs outstretched on the floor going back and disappearing behind the counter.

"What are you doing, Rodney?" asked Sheppard, even though he knew the answer was obvious.

"I would think the answer to that would be obvious," quipped McKay.

Sheppard felt very fortunate indeed that Rodney was unable to see his look of profound irritation. "Yes, Rodney, I can see that you're creating another masterpiece that will help us in our fight with the Wraith," he said with what he thought was the appropriate amount of sarcasm, "but what I meant was what are you doing on the floor?"

"Running the wiring," Rodney replied, either ignorant or uncaring about Sheppard's remarks.

Sheppard's eyebrows rose in confusion. "Wiring? In a hockey net?"

Rodney grabbed the edge of the workstation and pulled himself up. When he was completely upright he looked at Sheppard proudly. "Yes, wiring." He gestured to the completed net and said, "I've installed sensors in the hollow frame and hooked it up to a small battery in the base of the frame." Rodney moved over to stand by Sheppard and picked up a puck off the workstation. "The sensors will record when the puck crosses the threshold of the frame and emit a signal to the scoreboard I'm going to build. The score board will let everyone know when a goal is scored by various audio and visual means." Rodney held up the puck between them. "It eliminates the need for a goal judge, referee and video reviews." He tossed the puck into the net and was immediately rewarded with a two second long tone emitted from a small box on the workstation. "If there wouldn't be too many questions asked I'd even patent it and sell it to the NHL."

Sheppard was stunned. "You're taking this awfully…seriously…there, Rodney."

McKay looked sideways at Sheppard. "You know I was going to rig up the same sort of thing for the basketball rims."

Sheppard's eyes lit up. "Really?"

McKay opened his mouth and hesitated for a second before shaking his head and saying, "No…not really."

"McKay…"

"Sam won't let me build an ice rink," explained Rodney, "so I decided to do this." He walked over to the opposite end of the table and picked up his tablet. "Have you seen some of the sports that are being considered?" He held the tablet out to Sheppard who took it as though it were a ticking bomb. "Bowling, cricket and horseshoes. Horseshoes! I mean seriously, there's about as much physical activity in bowling and horseshoes as there is in…in…in…"

Sheppard couldn't help himself. "Chess?"

Rodney fixed the Colonel with a look of absolute scorn. "Why are you here?"

Sheppard smiled and placed the tablet on the workstation. "I came to see if you were interested in lunch." Sheppard smiled even wider when Rodney looked to his watch and grimaced at the time.

"Yes, well, sure." Rodney walked around the end of the table and headed to the door saying over his shoulder, "Well let's go! I haven't got all day you know!"

All Sheppard could do was shake his head, smile and run to catch up with his friend.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

Just to reiterate, I don't own Stargate Atlantis or any of its characters…MGM does.

Thanks again to Kipling-Nori who took the time to look this over for me.

And thanks to everyone who has been keeping up on this.

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For the second day in a row, John Sheppard entered the main lab in search of Rodney McKay, and for the second day in a row it wasn't McKay that he found but Radek Zelenka instead.

"Hey, Doc…have you seen McKay anywhere?" he asked as he walked up to Zelenka's workstation.

Zelenka looked up from the latest technological marvel he was studying and pushed his glasses up to their proper residence on the bridge of his nose.

"No, Colonel," responded the Czech scientist, irritation easily evident in his voice. "He called this morning and said that because," he paused and, in as accurate an impersonation as his Czech accent would allow, added, "There's nothing planned that you could possibly screw up so I'm taking the day off." He brought his right hand up to his mouth and coughed into it to clear his throat. "Sorry."

Sheppard nodded and sighed. "Rodney willingly took the day off?" he asked in disbelief. "Rodney McKay?"

"Yes he did." Zelenka picked up a portable sensor and passed it over the object he had been studying. "I suspect he is in Storage Room 14B." He looked up at Sheppard. "He mentioned yesterday something about having an idea for…"

Sheppard held up his hands to stop Zelenka. "Wait…let me guess- for his hockey…thing."

"Rink, yes," said Zelenka. He frowned at the scanner in his hand, adjusted its settings and passed it over the device again. This time he smiled at the results and he looked back at Sheppard. "He mentioned last night that he had an interesting idea for creating the boards to enclose the playing surface that…"

"I get the point, Doc," said Sheppard. He ignored the disappointment in Zelenka's eyes that he didn't get to explain in detail what McKay's idea was and said, "I'll have to talk to him later if…"

'Carter to Sheppard,' interrupted Sam's voice in his ear.

Sheppard reached up and touched his comm. "Go ahead, Colonel."

'I need to talk to you about Lorne's intelligence report on P3X-493. Can you come up to my office?'

"On my way," said Sheppard. He looked back to Zelenka who had by this time turned his attention back to the shiny gizmo on the table. "If you see Rodney, Doc…"

Zelenka looked up and opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw something behind Sheppard. Sheppard turned around, half expecting to see Rodney standing behind him, and became very confused by the sight of one of the other scientists heading towards them.

"All right, Radek," said Helga Sigfridsson. "I am here."

Sheppard watched Zelenka's face go from concentration on the object on the table, to distraction at the sight of Sigfridsson and finally to what looked like sheer delight in a matter of seconds. And he could see why. Helga Sigfridsson was the stereotypical Swedish blond bombshell, standing at nearly six feet tall with a mane of golden hair that flowed down past her shoulders, bright blue eyes and a nearly perfect body that not even her white lab coat could hide. Sheppard wasn't usually one to think of believing a stereotype, but after looking at Sigfridsson he was more than willing to make an exception.

He was brought out of his funk by Zelenka's voice, though for some reason he couldn't stop staring at Sigfridsson. "Thank you, Helga," he said as he passed her the scanner. "If you need me I will be in Storage Room 14B."

Something clicked in Sheppard's mind and he turned to find Zelenka, who had somehow nearly made it to the door of the lab without him noticing.

"Hey, Doc!" called Sheppard. He moved to catch up to Zelenka, but not without casting one last admiring glance to Sigfridsson, and said, "Let me get something straight." Sheppard glanced back to Sigfridsson and then back to Zelenka. In a hushed voice he asked, "You got all excited that time because you get to go down to the…thing?" Zelenka nodded and Sheppard said, "Not because," he motioned to Helga with his head, "you know?"

After nearly ten seconds of Zelenka looking at him as though he wasn't speaking either English or Czech, Sheppard shook his head and said with some amusement, "Never mind."

Sheppard watched him rush through the door and was still trying to figure the scientist out when another accented voice brought him back to reality.

"Is there something wrong, Colonel Sheppard?"

Sheppard turned with a rapidity brought on by the feeling of being caught with his hand in the cookie jar and found the worried eyes of Sigfridsson looking at him. "Ah, no, Doctor, nothing."

After another second of bearing the brunt of her concerned gaze, Sheppard waved good-bye and headed towards Sam's office.

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Its official designation was Storage Room 14B, located in one of the lower sections of one of the buildings situated next to the control tower. It was a large room by any definition of the word large; in fact it was the largest available room in Atlantis taking up more than thirty-two hundred square meters.

More than enough to house a regulation sized NHL hockey rink; and as luck would have it, the bulky medical supplies that had been the room's occupants the day before had been moved to storage areas in closer proximity to the Infirmary.

While Rodney was past the point of being angry or upset at not being able to put an actual hockey rink into service, he could at least have the appropriate sized playing surface. Yes, there were those who whined and griped about having such a large playing surface and having to run it as opposed to skate it, but they would enjoy it nonetheless he was sure.

Rodney stood twenty feet inside the door to the massive room punching up data and schematics on his tablet. There would be room for the dry rink and players benches and bleachers for some spectators. He paused in his work and looked up, taking a second to visualize the way it was going to look. How the stands would look depended entirely on what other sports would be allotted to this room and how much spectator interest there would be in that sport, and in hockey of course. The surface itself would be exactly as specified in the NHL rulebook…no exceptions. There would have to be exceptions in the rules for the actual playing of the game of course, such as Jennifer's limited checking rule, and there would also be no slap shots, as the players would not have the luxury of the protective padding that ice hockey players would have. There would have to be other changes, but they would have to wait.

He and a couple of his more capable underlings had already managed to install the sensors in the floor that would detect offsides and icings. Like the sensors installed in the nets, any offside or icing would trigger audio and visual alerts from the scoreboard. He glanced to his tablet to check the power readouts he had been keeping an eye on and smiled. It was all coming together very nicely.

"Rodney," came Sheppard's voice from the doorway, "what does your team leader have to do to get a word with you these days?"

Rodney looked at Sheppard and said, "You could always come and find me, Colonel, the city isn't really that big, relatively speaking that is. And if that fails," he pointed to his right ear, "you could always use this wonderful piece of modern technology that we like to call the comm. system." Rodney's eyebrows rose questioningly, and after a few seconds of silence from Sheppard he sighed and said without hiding the irritation he was feeling at being interrupted, "Well, what did you want to see me about?"

Sheppard's grin was maddening for Rodney. "Nothing in particular." Sheppard walked towards Rodney as he said, "What exactly are you doing…" Sheppard stopped and looked at Rodney who had a very strange smile upon his face. "What?"

Rodney shook his head rapidly. "Nothing. You were rambling on about something?"

Sheppard started walking towards Rodney again and said, "I was saying…"

That was as far as he got before he felt himself being flipped over as though he had just run into a hip high fence. He barely managed to get his hands out in front of him and initiate a roll to minimize the impact on his back. He wasn't entirely successful and ended up landing on his back with a resounding thud, his feet pointing towards Rodney. On the upside, the pain in his back was dulled instantly by the anger he felt when he saw the insufferably pleased with himself look on Rodney's face.

"Colonel! Are you all right?" he heard someone call out. He tipped his head back and saw the upside down image of Keller running towards him. He put up his hands and shouted, "Look out for the…"

He stopped as she passed by where he had run into the invisible fence and looked back to Rodney, who shrugged his shoulders with the innocence of a cat who had just swallowed the canary.

"Yeah, Doc," he said as Keller knelt down beside him and began helping him up. He glanced sidelong at Rodney and said to Keller, "Just lost my footing, that's all." He gave her a smile as he leaned back and tested his aching back. "Guess I should be more careful."

Keller gave him an 'I don't believe you but I don't think I want to know' look and turned to face Rodney. "Hello, Rodney."

"Jen," replied Rodney. "Ah, thank you for coming down." He walked over and showed Keller the schematics on his tablet. "I wanted to get your opinion on the placement of the emergency medical supplies, and where you think the stands should go and a few other things."

"Rodney, I'm hurt," said Sheppard with feigned sadness in his voice. "I figured you'd come to me for help."

Rodney grunted. "Right. When I want advice on setting up a football field or talking to women I'll come to you." He looked back to Keller and when he saw her amused look his face instantly turned red. "Not that I need help talking with women or anything. I mean you're obviously a woman and I'm talking to you." He motioned to Sheppard with his hand. "I was just saying that…what I mean is that I don't need…"

"It's okay, Rodney," Keller said mercifully as she laid her right hand on his reassuringly. Her smile was brilliant as she added, "I know what you meant." She looped her right arm inside his left and said as they moved to the center of the room, "I think the medical supplies should go in between the benches…"

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Thirty minutes later McKay and Keller, still arm in arm Sheppard noted in amazement, walked up to where he was leaning against the wall near the door.

Rodney was so caught up in Jennifer's presence that he didn't even notice Sheppard grinning at him until they were nearly to him.

Rodney's brow furrowed in surprise. "You're still here? What do you want, Sheppard?"

Sheppard was tempted to make some sort of comment about wanting to observe the courting habits of Meredith Rodney McKay, but decided against it. "Not much really. I have a couple of questions but they can wait until you're finished with the Doc here."

Rodney graced Sheppard with a look of severe irritation before turning to Jennifer. "I guess we're finished," he said, disappointment lacing his voice.

Jennifer smiled at him as she extracted her arm from his. "I'll see you in the Mess later," she said, smiling again when the disappointed look on his face evaporated. She looked to Sheppard and said in way of good-bye, "Colonel."

Sheppard nodded. "Doctor."

She was almost to the door when she heard Rodney call out, "Jen?"

She turned to face him and said, "Yes, Rodney."

"Thank you," he motioned behind him with his free hand, "for your help, I mean."

"You're welcome," she said kindly. She gave them both a little wave and walked out the door.

Rodney was still looking in that direction when Sheppard walked up beside him and slapped his right arm with the back of his hand.

"Ouch!" cried Rodney as he roughly rubbed his assaulted arm. "What was that for?"

Sheppard leaned in close to Rodney and repeated, "What was that for?" He spread his arms out wide in front of him where he had his little tumble. "What the hell was that, McKay?"

Rodney managed to keep from grinning as he said, "Oh, that."

Sheppard nodded quickly and gave Rodney a look that said that he knew damn well what he was talking about. "Yes, that!"

Rodney stood up a little straighter and lifted his chin up a bit as he did whenever he was about to talk about something he was proud of. "The boards." At Sheppard's uncomprehending look he made a circling motion with his hand and added, "I'm using force fields as the wall that will surround the rink." He tapped some instructions in on his tablet and showed Sheppard.

The playing surface was mapped out, and around it glowed a thin green line, which Sheppard recognized as the representation of a force field. Oddly enough, there was a break in the field around where he and Rodney were standing.

"It's been tricky," said Rodney as he brought the tablet back down. "Getting the power ratios right so that they act like true boards has been a challenge." Rodney looked at Sheppard smugly. "I was, of course, up to the challenge."

Sheppard looked at Rodney and said sarcastically, "Of course."

"Yes," replied Rodney. "If there wasn't enough power, objects," he glanced sidelong at Sheppard, "like you would just go on through it." Ignoring the contrite look Sheppard gave him Rodney looked back to his tablet. "Too much power and anything that came against the field would be repelled backwards."

"Rodney," said Sheppard with pained patience, "why not just use real boards instead of invisible ones?"

Rodney typed more commands into the tablet and said, "Sam says that this room may be used for other sports as well, so installing actual physical, semi-permanent boards isn't going to work." He looked up to Sheppard and grinned. "Besides, this is much cooler. Just wait until I adjust the frequency and get some color into it."

Sheppard was about to retort that nothing about hockey was cool, except the ice that wasn't going to be used, when Zelenka walked up to them muttering something in what Sheppard presumed to be Czech.

"Didn't I ask you to tell Rodney I was looking for him?" asked Sheppard to Zelenka.

Zelenka looked puzzled for a moment and then answered with a resolute, "No."

Sheppard was still trying to figure out if Zelenka was right when the Czech started speaking to Rodney.

"We had a power fluctuation about thirty minutes ago," he announced as he turned to Rodney. "It may have caused this section to collapse…"

"The power fluctuation was Sheppard running into the wall and flipping over like a burger in a fast food joint," replied Rodney.

Sheppard pointed his finger at Rodney and was about to snap back when Rodney continued on.

"I shut down the field when Doctor Keller ran to him to see if he was okay."

"How did the field react?" Zelenka asked excitedly.

Rodney looked up to his fellow scientist and pronounced, "Perfectly."

"I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for asking," said Sheppard to the two scientists, who slowly looked up to him and then turned to look at each other. A moment later they began speaking in techno babble that started to give him a headache. When they finished a moment later, Zelenka scurried off in the direction he had come from and Rodney looked at him somewhat suspiciously.

"Why are you still here?"

Sheppard sighed loudly. "Carter wants us to go over the intelligence report on P3X-493 to see if it's worth checking out."

"What part of 'I'm taking the day off' do people not understand?" asked Rodney with his eyes raised to the heavens.

"Come on," said Sheppard with a chuckle. He slapped Rodney on the back. "Let's go to the Mess…you might see Keller again."

"Oh please," groaned Rodney.

The two friends walked towards the door, and when they passed through it Sheppard glanced at Rodney and said, "You called her 'Jen' by the way. Not Keller or Jennifer or Doctor. Jen."

"I did not!" exclaimed Rodney with a rather emphatic shake of his head. He thought about it for a second, and it dawned on him that he had in fact called her Jen. He looked over to Sheppard who, seeing that Rodney had realized it, nodded his head in confirmation.

"Twice," clarified Sheppard. He smiled widely and said mischievously, "You like her."

Rodney groaned and gently slapped his right hand to his forehead in frustration. "Don't start that again."

A second later, a startled Radek Zelenka looked up from his tablet wondering where in the world the thunderous laughter was coming from.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay…I know I said that I wouldn't do much in the whole Keller and McKay thing, but the hopeless romantic in me just wouldn't let it slide. I do promise however, that hockey will commence in the next chapter, complete with pucks, pads, sticks and damage to persons and property.

Thanks Kipling-Nori. You're as great a beta as you are a writer, and you're an awesome writer.

Thanks to everyone who is still keeping up with this and to those of you who have reviewed.

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Sam sat at her desk reading over the joint report just submitted by John and Rodney. It was odd enough that they both agreed on something like this so exactly, but for the both of them to actually stand in front of her in patient silence while she read their report was astonishing. There were no barbs, no comments, no impatient scuffling of feet and no sounds of any kind coming from either of them.

It was a little unnerving.

Sam put the report on her desk and cleared her throat, instantly attracting the attention of both men before her. _"If only it were that easy all the time,"_ she thought with an inward chuckle. To them she asked, "So you both agree that the planet is a bust?" She raised her eyebrows and leaned back in her chair. "You don't believe there's a need to send a scientific team just to be sure?"

Sheppard glanced to Rodney standing at his left to make sure that they were in agreement, and after Rodney looked at him and nodded he looked back to Sam and said, "Nope. Lorne's team did a thorough sweep and nothing out of the ordinary popped up."

"And the Ancient database lists the planet as having no value in energy production and no strategic worth," added Rodney quickly. "According to the database the only reason they put the Stargate there was just to have one in that area of the galaxy, but they never even bothered to setup any sort of camp or facility there. While I'm not usually one to blindly trust the database, especially in light of the fact that the database is thousands of years old, there's nothing in the scans Lorne's team did to indicate that there is anything worth the effort of investigating."

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "All right, if you both agree then we won't bother with it." Both men nodded with what looked to her to be relief. "Anything else?"

Again, McKay and Sheppard turned to each other for an instant before turning back to her and simultaneously saying, "No."

She smiled at their synchronicity and spread her arms out in front of her in a gesture of dismissal. "See you later then."

She managed to hold in her amused laughter at how quickly they both tried to vacate her office until they were well out of earshot.

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"You know," said McKay as he and Sheppard made their way through the control room, "I'm surprised you never asked for a driving range or some putting greens."

Sheppard shook his head as he stepped around a technician as he worked on one of the panels. "Nah. Why bother with that when I can just launch some balls off the balcony of my choice?"

Rodney nodded. "Yes, well that's true I suppose."

They turned the corner and Sheppard asked, "Where are you headed now?"

"Back to 14B after I stop by the Infirmary and check..." Seeing Sheppard's half grin Rodney stopped his answer and asked his own question, "What?"

Sheppard looked at Rodney and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Nothing," he stated unconvincingly. After a moment he said, "Well, it seems odd that you'd willingly be going to the Infirmary when you aren't, you know, dying." He smiled slyly at McKay. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you didn't see Keller, I mean Jen, at lunch would it?"

"No!" exclaimed McKay more defensively than he would have liked. At Sheppard's dubious look he explained, "I just wanted to see how many people have shown interest in hockey to try to figure out exactly how much space is going to be needed for the stands. **Doctor Keller**," he said with pronounced exaggeration, "is in charge of collecting and processing that information." Rodney gestured with his hand to emphasize the point. "So there is a perfectly logical explanation for going to see her." Rodney grunted and added, "So there."

Rodney continued walking, positive as he ever had been about anything that he had successfully made his point and feeling pretty good about it. He had gone perhaps ten or twelve steps when he realized that Sheppard was no longer walking alongside him. He stopped and, despite the lurch in his stomach telling him that he was most certainly going to regret it, turned around to find Sheppard.

The way Sheppard had his right hand resting casually on his sidearm and his left hand pointing at him told him his stomach had been right on the money.

"You really do like her," said Sheppard.

Rodney's shoulders deflated and his eyes closed in frustration and an attempt to stave off the numbing headache that Sheppard was becoming.

"What's the big deal, Rodney?" asked Sheppard, who had moved closer to him while he had his eyes closed. When Rodney looked at him he asked quietly, "Seriously. You like her and she seems to tolerate you better than most. What's the problem?"

Rodney turned around and resumed his trek to the Infirmary, but before he turned the next corner he stopped, turned around and said, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Colonel."

Sheppard watched his friend walk around the corner and hoped for his sake he'd get this one right.

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"Soccer?" he asked incredulously. "You can't be serious!"

Keller rested her right elbow on her desk and settled her chin on her right hand in turn. "Very serious," she replied with a grin. She looked across her cluttered more than usual desk and nearly burst out laughing at the look of open-mouthed disbelief on Rodney's face. "There has been more than a passing interest shown in soccer." She raised a playful eyebrow at him as she quipped, "Even more than hockey. And let's just say that people have been somewhat…adamant…that we consider it."

"Soccer?" Rodney repeated. "A soccer field is," he shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea how big a soccer field is, but I guarantee it's too big for us to set up in Atlantis."

"You have no idea?" asked Keller, a hint of teasing lacing her voice.

Rodney grunted and leaned back in his chair. "Even geniuses don't know everything."

Keller nodded and moved her right hand to turn her laptop's display towards Rodney. "I've taken the liberty of looking it up for you, as well as the dimensions for a cricket field." As he leaned in closer for a quick look she said, "You're right about it being too big; they both are."

Rodney found the dimensions of the soccer field on the screen and quickly did the calculations in his head. "Hmn…too big." He leaned back and said with a smug smile, "Too bad."

"I don't think you'll lose any sleep over it," commented an amused Keller.

Rodney looked up, and despite his usual inability to discern whether or not someone, especially someone of the fairer sex, was being serious or not he easily saw that she was teasing him.

"Ha-ha," he said with a small smile.

"But you don't have to worry about it," she said and Rodney looked at her questioningly. "Apparently some of those who suggested cricket and soccer realized that size was an issue and found alternatives." She reached over and pushed a button on her laptop.

Rodney studied the screen again and, only because Jennifer was sitting across from him, managed to suppress his groan of disgust so that it came out of his mouth as a whimper. "Indoor soccer and indoor…cricket?" He looked up to her and asked, "Indoor cricket? Are you kidding me?" When she shook her head he turned his attention back to the screen. "Crap! An indoor soccer field is about the same size as a NHL rink." He sat back and sighed. "Any other suggestions or do I dare ask?"

Keller gave a short laugh as she turned her laptop back towards her and punched up another file. "Let's see. A few people are asking if it would be possible to install a swimming pool for swimming," she looked up to him and grinned, "and water polo."

"Water polo?" Rodney shook his head. "Not a chance. If I can't get my ice there's no way Sam would go for a pool."

Keller nodded in agreement and looked back to her screen. "Volleyball, rugby, tennis and badminton are just a few." She chuckled before saying, "Colonel Sheppard has sent me at least a dozen requests for football."

Rodney folded his arms across his chest and grunted in amusement. "Thank God there isn't an indoor variation for football. Sheppard would be in his glee."

Keller cleared her throat meaningfully to attract Rodney's attention, and when she got it she reached over and brought up another page on her laptop.

"Oh come on!" groaned Rodney before leaning over to verify what Jennifer's sympathetic look and his gut were telling him. "Indoor football," he read off the screen, "adapted to be played on a NHL sized rink." He collapsed back and rubbed his temple with his right hand in what turned out to be a vain attempt to stave off the sledgehammer going off in his head. "There will be no end to the gloating."

"I'm sorry, Rodney," and she sounded like it.

He sighed and nodded his appreciation, all too aware that he hadn't issued his habitual scathing retort about sympathy and the uselessness of it. While his mouth still often operated without consent or direction from his brain around her, he definitely managed to hold it in a lot more than he used to or would with other people.

"I better get back to the," his eyes found hers and the concern shining in them engulfed his thought process, "thing, where I have to go with the thing I have to finish." He swallowed the lump in his throat that had appeared out of nowhere and nearly vaulted out of the chair. He stood there between the chair and Jennifer's desk, unable to do something as simple as decide which way to go around his chair to make it to the door. He finally conquered that monumental decision and maneuvered around what had become an impediment with the grace of a tank, striking his right knee painfully against the metal frame.

He managed to limp to the door with what little dignity he had left and gripped the doorframe with his left hand, hoping that she didn't notice that he was holding it so tight that his knuckles were turning white. He took a deep breath and turned back to Keller. "Thank you, Jennifer," he managed through clenched teeth. "Let me know when you have a report ready on the sports so I can, you know, figure out the details and, well, you know."

She leaned forward and braced her hands on her desk, ready to jump up and check on him if necessary. "Rodney, do you need…"

Rodney stood up straighter and shook his head in an emphatic no. "See you later, Doctor."

Jennifer leaned back in her chair and shook her head in amusement. "Of all the men in Pegasus, Jennifer," she said as smile spread across her face. "You sure can pick them."

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"What's wrong with your leg?" asked Zelenka as Rodney hobbled up to join him.

Rodney decided that the best course of action was to ignore the question. He held his hand out and after a very brief moment one his staff pushed a tablet into his waiting grasp. As he punched in his own super encrypted code to gain access to the system he asked, "Where are we?"

"The boards seem stable," replied Radek, all too accustomed to having his questions unanswered. "We've been running objects of various sizes into it at varying velocities and angles and received only minor power fluctuations. Well within your operational parameters."

Rodney was still bringing data up on the tablet. "Yes, well, what did you expect? I did think this through you know." He lowered the tablet to his side and looked around. "And it all may be for nothing."

"What do you mean?" asked Zelenka as he looked up from his own tablet.

Rodney gestured to the room at large with his right hand. "There are all sorts of sports being bandied about, like soccer and football." He turned to Zelenka. "Let's face it, many of the people in the city are American. If it comes down to a popularity test between football and hockey, hockey isn't going to win. Hockey would probably even lose to soccer." Rodney walked past Zelenka and stopped in the middle of the room. "And according to the schematics, there is only one other room that has enough space to house an indoor football field. The problem is it would take a lot of extra effort to remove some bulkheads that protrude into the room."

"Rodney," said Zelenka carefully, unsure whether or not he should point it out, "isn't this why you developed the force field idea, so that the boards could be easily removed for other sports?"

Rodney whirled around to face Zelenka. "You didn't believe that nonsense did you?" he asked incredulously. "Of course not! I just thought it was cool and easier to do than build actual boards." Rodney shook his head and looked to the section he had planned to use for the stands. "Yes, it would be easier to remove if we needed the room, but I hadn't actually anticipated needing the room. There are other rooms that are big enough for tennis, volleyball and a number of other things, but I didn't…I had no idea…seriously, indoor football and indoor soccer?" He sighed in defeat. "There's no chance of getting the ice surface now."

Radek looked confused. "I thought you said Colonel Carter said…"

"Yes, I know what I said," interrupted Rodney loudly, drawing glances from others working around the room, "and I know what she said. At least there was still a chance, but now…now there isn't."

The two scientists stood there for several minutes, each quietly contemplating the situation and each oblivious to Sheppard walking into the room and up to them.

"Do I even want to ask?" said Sheppard after looking back and forth between the two for nearly a minute.

"What?" demanded Rodney, only noticing Sheppard for the first time since he walked in. "What do you want now?"

Sheppard raised his eyebrows at McKay. "Easy, Rodney. I just came to see how things were going."

Rodney clamped his mouth shut and looked down to his tablet.

Sheppard gave Rodney an appraising look. The fact the Canadian hadn't said anything else was as close as he was going to get to an apology, and he knew it. When Keller called to tell him that Rodney hadn't taken the news about the wide assortment of sports being asked for well, he knew that coming here was going to be interesting.

"Apology accepted," said Sheppard with a grin, eliciting a bitter look from Rodney. "What got you in such a bad mood? Looks like the…thing…is getting there. Why be such a grump?"

"I don't want to talk about it," declared Rodney. "I have better things to do than stand here and try to explain to you the complexities of…"

Sheppard held up his hands. "You don't have to, believe me." Sheppard folded his arms across his chest a fixed Rodney with a stern stare. "Get over it, Rodney. You knew there'd be other sports and you knew space was limited."

Rodney opened his mouth to retort that it was none of his business when Sheppard plowed on.

"And, just out of curiosity," said Sheppard, "when was the last time you were on skates?"

Rodney slowly looked to Sheppard. His look must have said it had been at least twenty-five years, because before his eyes a grin the likes of which he had seldom seen before spread across the Colonel's face.

"That's what I thought," Sheppard said triumphantly. "So for the love of God, forget the ice and move on. How much time do you think we're all going to have to play anything other than dodge the Wraith stunner anyway? The only reason you've been able to get into this as much as you have is because things have been quieter than usual."

"_He has a point,"_ thought Rodney sourly. _"Damn him."_ To Sheppard he said, "Fine."

"And about football," added Sheppard humorously, "I wouldn't worry too much about it." At Rodney's furrowed brow and blank look Sheppard jutted his chin up towards the ceiling. "I don't think the ceiling is high enough…it's barely high enough for hockey. The only other room available that has a high enough ceiling isn't big enough for the field."

Rodney looked up and for the first time really noticed that the ceiling wasn't as high as he thought it was.

"Anyway, kids," said Sheppard as he started walking to the door, "I've got **work** to do. Have fun."

Rodney watched Sheppard leave and then turned to Zelenka. "I have to get these force fields fine-tuned. Hopefully Doctor Keller will have some numbers by tomorrow that will tell me what I need to do to get some stands put into place." He brought up a schematic of the room and showed it to Zelenka. "We should erect a low level shield to protect the spectators from ricochets and errant shots. Oh, and the scoreboard needs to be done. Wait until you see what I've got planned for that..."

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"It's not healthy to be eating that much sugar this late at night, Rodney. You should be in bed."

Rodney looked up from the bowl of blue Jello that had been miraculously waiting for him when he staggered into the vacant Mess and found Keller looking at him with a mischievous frown upon her face. She was still in uniform, which told him that despite her playful scolding about it being late, she had yet to go home and change into off duty garb.

Rodney left his spoon in the half empty bowl and leaned back in his chair. "And what are you doing here if it's so late? Hmn?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. "Looking for you, actually."

"Oh."

Jennifer sat down in the chair next to Rodney and placed a tablet on the table in front of her. "This," she said as she indicated the tablet by placing her hands upon it, "is what we've come up with so far." She turned to look at him. "And by 'we' I mean myself, Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard, Chuck and Major Lennox."

Rodney felt the frown long before he even thought about doing it. "Lennox?" He thought about it and began snapping his fingers repeatedly when it hit him who the man was. "The new British officer who keeps twirling his mustache like he's a villain from a bad spy movie? Why him?"

"Variety," she answered after a small chuckle. "Sam, John and I are Americans, so we wanted another opinion." She saw the hurt look flash across his face before he managed to hide it behind a look of frustration and anger. "We tried calling you but Doctor Zelenka said you didn't want to be disturbed."

Rodney nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, I remember. I was working on the programming for the scoreboard."

Jennifer smiled at the enthusiasm in his voice. "At any rate, besides Chuck he was the first non-American we could find that had an opinion." She slid the tablet over in front of him, careful not to tip over his desert. "Care to take a look?"

Rodney looked at the offered tablet as though it was going to bite his hand. "Not particularly," he finally said after a moment of pause.

Jennifer gave him a little tsk-tsk of disapproval and reached over with her right hand to turn it on. An amalgam of numbers and words quickly glowed to life on the screen and Jennifer turned her body around in her seat so that she could get a good look at Rodney and gauge his reaction.

She wasn't disappointed.

When he leaned forward and focused on the data on the screen his eyes darted back and forth, up and down across the screen with such a quickness that she couldn't help but be reminded of some of the cartoons she used to watch on Saturday mornings as a child. It was simple to tell when he finally grasped the meaning of what the information was trying to tell him: his eyes stopped moving and opened as wide as she had ever seen them, and his mouth opened and closed several times without saying anything.

She couldn't help but smile at the scene.

Rodney pointed to the tablet and turned to look at her but still didn't say anything.

Jennifer nodded. "Hockey is popular and approved," she said but held up her finger warningly as she added, "with certain conditions laid out by the CMO." She lowered her hand and folded her hands together in her lap. "We had to approve it," she added playfully. "It seems someone has been working pretty hard to get a hockey rink up and running." She noticed the rapid upturn in the corner of his mouth and smiled. "Basketball, soccer and tennis are also in, and a number of other sports that I'm guessing you wouldn't be interested in as they aren't going to impact your rink," she said with a knowing grin, and was rewarded with a shameless nod. "Football," she said, amused by the instant loathing that spread across his face, "was discussed. Colonel Sheppard just couldn't get past the ceiling issue, complaining that if you couldn't get a good kick-off, punt or long bomb that it just wasn't the same."

He just sat there for a moment looking over the information on the screen. Jennifer waited patiently and nearly fell off her chair when he jumped up so quickly that he sent his chair flying into the table behind them.

"I've got to go and get some sleep if I'm going to get the rink finished! The score board needs to be finished and the shield emitters need to be placed around the benches and the stands…"

Jennifer watched as Rodney walked past her on his way to the main door of the Mess, going on and on about what was left to do and what it was going to take to get it done. When he disappeared through the door she turned around and turned off the forgotten tablet on the table and sighed. She was very happy that she had been able to brighten his day, especially after their meeting earlier. She was still thinking about his reaction when a soft ahem startled her.

She turned to her left and nearly did a double take when she saw Rodney standing next to her. His face was slightly flushed and his hands were in his pockets, and even though he was looking straight at her he didn't seem to actually be seeing her.

"Rodney?"

His eyes focused onto hers when she spoke his name. "I wanted to…I mean I didn't…" He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Thank you for bringing this to me at this late hour," he said with a calmness that was eerie coming from a man that was usually anything but calm. "You really didn't have to."

Jennifer smiled, though she wasn't sure if it was because of the expression of gratitude or simply the fact that he'd realized he hadn't thanked her in the first place. "I wanted to," she said, "and you're welcome."

He smiled at her, warmly and with sincere appreciation she thought, and then the damnedest thing happened: she yawned. It came out of nowhere and she only just managed to get her right hand up to cover her mouth as it opened.

She smiled apologetically at Rodney. "Sorry." Instead of seeing amusement on his face as she had expected, she saw concern. "What?"

"You should be in bed," he announced with absolute certainty. He held out his left hand to her. "Come on…I'm taking you home."

The right side of her mouth edged upward despite her attempt to keep it from doing so, and it wasn't lost on McKay. She watched him as he stood there for a second, his hand still reaching out to her, and just kept from laughing out loud when a look of sheer panic danced across his face. He pulled his hand back towards him and stuffed it back in his pocket in the blink of an eye. It was about then that the stammering started.

"Your home, I mean, not my home. Why would I take you to my home when you have your own perfectly comfortable home?" His eyes opened wide and he moved his hands from his pockets and held them up to tell her that wasn't exactly what he meant. "Not that I've ever been in your quarters or anything, I mean I haven't been invited so…not that I'm saying you're rude not to invite me because you really wouldn't have a reason to, and you're not rude…you're one of the nicest people I know. I'm just saying that you…," he pointed his right hand towards her and exclaimed indignantly, "you're enjoying this!"

Jennifer finally let herself laugh out loud. "Yes I am," she said when she finished.

"Well that's the last…"

"Rodney?"

"What?"

Jennifer held her right hand out to him and tilted her head slightly to the left. "Would you walk me home please?"

That took the wind out of his sails in a heartbeat and before he knew it he was reaching for her hand. He gently grasped her smaller hand in his and helped her up from her chair. They stood there for a moment, the space between them so insignificant that they could feel the other's breath on their face, and looked into each other's eyes.

It was Jennifer who unintentionally broke the spell they were under when her thumb gently caressed the top of Rodney's hand. The unfamiliar sensation that the simple gesture caused forced him to look down at the combined hands.

When he looked back up to Jennifer a moment later he cleared his throat and said, "We should get going then."

Jennifer nodded and hid her disappointment well when Rodney released her hand and reached over to retrieve her tablet from the table. To her surprise and his credit, he didn't pass it to her but held onto it himself in his left hand.

He smiled and held out his right arm to indicate the way out. "After you, Doctor."

She smiled and inclined her head in gratitude and started for the door. A second later he was beside her.

"So," she said as they walked side by side through the door, "tell me about this amazing scoreboard you've built."

A truly proud and genuine smile formed on his lips. "Well, I didn't actually **build** a scoreboard…"


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, not as much hockey as I had planned, but other things popped up. Sorry.

Thanks to everyone who continues to keep up with this, and a special thank you to Kipling-Nori who did the beta thing for me again.

I would really appreciate feedback on this. Is it good? Okay? Is it gross? Seriously, all comments are all appreciated.

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"To what do I owe the pleasure, Jack?"

General Jack O'Neill looked to General Hank Landry and pointed behind him. "I come bearing gifts."

Landry turned around to find dozens of crates being moved through the hallways of his base by a wide assortment of airmen and machinery.

He walked over and stopped a couple of airmen who had been carrying a large box, then reached over and undid the clasps keeping the cover in place and opened the box. He frowned at the box's contents and picked up one of the odd looking objects and held it out for Jack to see.

"For me, Jack?" said the amused Landry. "You shouldn't have."

Jack walked over to Landry and plucked the round object from Landry's hand and tossed it back into the box. "I didn't," he quipped as he redid the clasps and motioned for the airmen to carry on. "It's for Atlantis. Apparently McKay is setting up some sort of hockey league." At Landry's disbelieving gaze Jack said, "The details are still a bit fuzzy."

"I bet," said an amused Landry. "I thought you didn't like McKay."

"I never said that," replied Jack with a shake of his head. "The point is I like hockey, and Carter doesn't."

Landry raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Oh no," said Jack with a satisfied smile upon his face. "She doesn't like it at all. Teal'c and I used to talk about it just to drive her nuts." He shrugged his shoulder and admitted, "Okay **I** used to talk about it to drive her nuts. Teal'c just played along."

Landry laughed for a moment and then said, "Hockey in Pegasus? I'm not sure they're ready for that, Jack."

"It'll catch on," replied Jack as he turned to head for the gate room. "Or my name isn't Jack O'Neill with two l's," he stopped, turned to look at Landry and deadpanned, "which it is."

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"He's been working on this almost non-stop for four days now and I'm getting worried," said Sam quietly.

Indeed it was worry that had her and Sheppard making the trek from her office to what had been affectionately labeled 'The Rink' by those working on it. For some reason the name stuck, despite the fact that other sports besides hockey were going to be played there. She suspected that Rodney's constant presence in the room, the tremendous amount of work he was putting into it and his well known desire to have hockey played there went a long way towards the moniker sticking. After all, one did not cross the head scientist of Atlantis unless one had to, and even then it was understood that there would very well be some sort of horrible retribution awaiting you.

"Come on, Colonel," replied Sheppard, "it's Rodney. You know how…involved…he can get in things."

Sam glanced at Sheppard. "That may be so, but usually when he gets this involved it's a crisis and once the crisis is averted or otherwise dealt with, he takes a break and recharges. From what I've heard there's no end in sight this time." She and Sheppard turned a corner and she asked, "Have you been able to get him to do anything other than work on this?"

Sheppard shrugged and smirked at her. "I've gotten him to eat something a couple of times. Other than that, not really." His face became concerned. "He's not ignoring his other work is he? I mean that would be so un-Rodney like."

Carter shook her head. "No, everything is getting done with its usual promptness and quality. I'm just concerned. I don't want the Wraith or anyone else barreling down on us one day and have Rodney burned out because he's not resting."

Sheppard looked sidewise to his companion. "Is that all it is, Sam?" He faced forward and said, "It almost seems like you might care…"

Sam laughed, though it wasn't a harsh 'that's ridiculous' or 'you're insane' laugh, but a softer laugh. "No, Colonel. Yes, I do care about Rodney…remember I've known him longer than anyone else on the base." She shook her head and smiled. "Despite his arrogance I've grown to trust him and consider him my friend. I'm just worried about him…that's all. Besides," she glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, "I have a feeling that he may be carrying a torch for another blond on base."

Sheppard's head turned towards Sam so fast it almost felt as though it might detach. He was about to ask how she could have known but didn't have the chance.

"You could see hints of it in both of them when we were trapped in the Genii mining facility," she said. Sheppard had turned to her so quickly that she could practically hear the question rattling around in his head. "It seemed so easy for them to banter back and forth with each other, and I could sense the concern they had for one another. I mean I'd expect to see that from Jennifer, but from Rodney…"

"I know what you mean," said Sheppard. "You could always get Keller to get him to calm down a bit."

"I had that very same notion," said Sam with a smile. "I'll talk to her about it after we check on him." She motioned ahead to the Rink at the end of the corridor they were in. "Have you been in there lately?"

"Not for a couple of days," replied Sheppard. "Not since the hockey gear came through the Stargate." He stopped thirty feet from the door to the rink and turned to face Sam, who had also stopped and faced him. With arms crossed in front of his chest Sheppard asked, "How in the hell did he manage to get all that equipment here so fast anyway?"

Sam closed her eyes and sighed, then looked back to Sheppard. "He has…friends…in high places that are fans of hockey." She adopted a feigned dismayed expression. "One in particular, who just happens to be a two-star general."

Sheppard stood in silent contemplation for a second before it dawned on him. "General O'Neill? I didn't think the General liked Rodney."

The right side of Sam's mouth went up in a smirk. "I wouldn't say that Jack doesn't like him." At Sheppard's dubious look Sam added, "Really. The point is though, Jack loves hockey, and when Rodney sent the request I'm sure he jumped all over it." She started walking again and said, "And I strongly suspect that part of the reason he sent the equipment is because he knows I don't particularly like hockey and it would irritate me a little."

John chuckled and said, "That sounds like General…"

His thought was cut off by a blood curdling cry of profound pain emanating from the Rink, followed by anxious voices calling for help. Sheppard spared a single glance to Sam before drawing his ever present sidearm and running towards the room. He threw himself against the left side of the doorframe, then raised his weapon and pointed inside long enough to ensure that there were no threats immediately inside the door. Certain that the immediate area was clear, he stepped halfway around the doorframe with his weapon still raised and his finger on the trigger and scanned the room.

Rodney was in the middle of the room, tablet in his left hand, looking towards the east end of the room. After a quick glance to confirm there were no threats to Rodney from the western section of the room, he leaned in enough to get a good look to the east. Halfway between Rodney and the far wall a group of five or six people was gathered in a rough circle around something on the floor. Other than that, Sheppard could see no one else.

Sam flattened herself against the right side of the doorway and looked inside. "I don't see any…"

"Will you put that thing down before you kill somebody!" cut in Rodney with one of his more emphatic bellows.

Sheppard instinctively turned his weapon in the direction of the thunderous noise, only to find Rodney looking at him with an all too familiar expression on his face: it was the look that Sheppard knew meant Rodney thought he was an idiot.

Sheppard lowered his weapon, though he didn't holster it right away. He looked to Sam who just shrugged her shoulders and motioned inside with her head. He nodded and moved cautiously inside the door. As he did, a medic came running up behind him and Sheppard had to concentrate very hard on not pointing his gun at her out of reflex. He holstered the weapon as the young woman ran past him and towards the group that was still huddled in the room.

It was only when the group parted that Sheppard noticed Ronon standing there, looking down at what Sheppard could now see was one of the new Marines who had recently arrived on Atlantis. The Marine, Harrison if he remembered correctly, was lying there clutching at his right side and writhing in pain.

Careful of where he had done his unintentional forward half somersault days earlier Sheppard walked over to Rodney, who had turned his attention back to the group. It was only when he and Sam got to where Rodney was standing that Sheppard saw something that looked so out of this world that he couldn't even voice the question to Rodney. Instead Sheppard pointed to Ronon and raised his eyebrows in question.

Years of working together and a bond that neither of them would have admitted existed worked its magic and Rodney nodded. He pointed to Ronon, still standing over Harrison holding a hockey stick in hands covered with bulky hockey gloves, the top end of the shaft in his left hand and his right hand near the bottom, and shook his head.

"Chuck has been trying to teach Ronon the intricacies of the body check, specifically, rubbing a player out along the boards," responded Rodney far too casually for the situation. He looked to Sam and then to Sheppard with his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "He doesn't get it yet."

"Rodney," began Sam with restrained frustration, "Jennifer gave you clear instructions on how this was supposed to work. Exactly what part of limited checking do you not understand?"

"I understand it perfectly, thank you very much," replied Rodney with a glare.

"Rodney," said Sam warningly.

"Look, Chuck explained to Ronon in painstaking detail how to properly and safely deliver the check, and then asked for volunteers to take the check." Rodney shrugged. "Having heard how detailed Chuck had been in his instructions to Ronon, Harrison volunteered and then I heard Chuck announce that they were trying a practice run. A few seconds later I heard the thump and Harrison's cry of pain." He jutted his thumb at Sheppard as he added, "And then Rambo here came in pointing a loaded weapon around the room like the Wraith had invaded."

"Well gee, Rodney," said Sheppard in his trademark exasperated drawl, "after all we've been through I think I can be forgiven for thinking the worst when someone yells out like they're being fed on by a Wraith."

Rodney huffed at that. "Anyway, it looks like…"

"McKay," interrupted Ronon's gruff voice. "I have a sparring session." He pushed his stick and gloves into Sheppard's arms and said to Rodney, "I'll be back after lunch."

Rodney, Sam and John watched the big man nonchalantly stroll out the door, and when Sam and John looked to Rodney they were both surprised to see a self-satisfied grin upon his face.

At their inquisitive stares he shrugged and quipped as he looked down to his tablet, "He's my enforcer."

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"It's not like he knew what he was doing, Doctor!" said Rodney loudly. "That's what we were doing, teaching him the right and wrong ways to do it."

Jennifer crossed her arms in front of her chest and matched Rodney's irritated and intense glower with one of her own.

She had arrived on the scene a short time after Sam and John to find Harrison slightly giddy from the morphine her medic had administered. Between the hushed whispers going around the group and her quick examination of Harrison's injuries, it only took a minute to figure out what had happened.

When the gurney took the injured Marine to the Infirmary she walked up to Rodney and, in as harsh a voice as she had ever used with him, ordered him to follow her. Sheppard and Carter followed for reasons that really escaped her as she hadn't even looked at them much less asked them to tag along.

"So you're saying that you let a man hit another man without the proper instruction?" she demanded. "Would you let someone come into your lab and start punching buttons or activating equipment without teaching them what to do?"

"Are you insane?" Rodney replied indignantly. "Do you know how many different ways the city could be destroyed if someone started indiscriminately pushing buttons in my lab?"

"And how is this different?"

Rodney opened his mouth to retort that Harrison being checked into the boards by Ronon had no chance of destroying the city when Jennifer glared at him, pointed her finger at his chest and said warningly, "You know what I mean!"

Rodney sighed, held up his right hand in the space between them and counted off each point with a finger. "First of all, Ronon was told the right way to do it and the wrong way to do it. Second, he was told that it was a practice run. Third, Harrison volunteered and should have known the risks. Four, this isn't my fault!"

Jennifer lowered her arms and put her hands on her hips. "And who was in charge in the room at the time?"

He gulped loudly enough to be heard by Sheppard and Sam, who had taken refuge from errant verbal barbs and possible UFOs near the door to Jennifer's office.

It was answer enough for Jennifer. "And did you personally supervise the instruction of an alien member of the city in the possibly dangerous art of body checking, a man who up to a few days ago had no idea what hockey or checking was?"

Rodney looked away from her demanding brown eyes for a second before saying, "I was busy and Chuck…"

Again, Jennifer heard the unspoken answer to her direct question. "But you were watching and keeping an eye on things as Ronon went in for the check, right?"

"I can't pay attention to every little thing going on around me now can I?" exclaimed Rodney irritably.

From his vantage point by the door, Sheppard leaned over to Sam and said quietly, "Ahhh…their first fight."

He had tried very hard to say it softly enough so that they wouldn't hear, and he thought he had been successful until Rodney and Jennifer rapidly turned to him with identical white hot fire in their eyes.

The anger in their eyes was so blatant that he could practically hear their minds scream at him to shut up. He instinctively stepped back and flattened himself against the wall by the door in case a rapid evac was necessary.

They turned their attention back to each other and went on as though they hadn't been interrupted.

"Yes I do!" said Jennifer, the decibel level of her voice higher than usual. She took a moment to quiet herself down and when she spoke again her voice was calm and collected. "Hockey was your idea, Rodney. And you agreed when I said that there had to be a limit on checking to ensure the safety of the players. Right?"

Rodney, stunned at the sudden change of her tone of voice and tactics, found himself looking to the floor by her feet and nodding.

She took a step closer to him, wanting to make what she was about to ask as personal as she could. "Rodney?" When he finally raised his head and looked into her eyes she said, "I'm counting on you to help me keep these people safe. If that means you have to do a little bit extra then do it. If it means you have to be a little more responsible then do it. Okay?"

"Fine," muttered Rodney, though it held none of the snark that had become associated with him. "I'll do what I can."

Jennifer nodded and gave the scientist a grateful smile. "That's all I can ask."

Rodney stood there for a moment, unsure whether or not that was all to be said.

Sheppard saw what he knew to be Rodney's indecision and decided to bail him out.

"Come on, Rodney. Let's go and get something to eat."

Rodney looked to Sheppard and then back to Jennifer. "Thank you, Doctor," he said softly.

"Thank **you**, Doctor," replied Jennifer.

Rodney turned and walked towards the door, hesitating only slightly as he walked through the opening.

"The Mess is the other way," said John when he caught up to Rodney.

"I know," replied Rodney. "We pick teams this afternoon and play our first game in a couple of days."

"So?"

"So, I have to figure out how to get Ronon to understand checking so he doesn't kill anyone."

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Sam watched the two men go, and when she was certain they were far enough away she looked to Jennifer and clapped for a few seconds in appreciation. At Jennifer's confused look she said, "That was masterful! I've never seen Rodney shut down like that before."

Jennifer smiled and moved around her desk to sit in her chair. After she sat down and got comfortable she looked up and sighed. "I just got him to understand the severity of the situation."

Sam smiled and walked over to the visitor's chair and sat down. "I think it's more than that, Jennifer. He listens to you…really listens to you." When Jennifer leaned back in her chair Sam added, "Rodney is, well, he's one of a kind." Jennifer gave her a blank look and Sam laughed as she stood up. "Just be patient with him. Most people can't even begin to comprehend just how smart he is, but there are some things, usually the simple things, that escape him." She grinned at her friend. "I hope you know what I mean."

Jennifer looked up and smiled again. "I do."

Sam nodded and walked to the door, but stopped before exiting and turned to face Jennifer. "He may be a pain in the ass, Jen…"

"I know," said Jennifer. When Sam walked out the door she added in a whisper, "But he's worth it."

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Chuck streaked down the left wing with all the speed he could muster, all the while stick handling the bright orange floor hockey puck with all the skill he had managed to hone during his childhood years. It was cliché he knew, but remembering the game really was like riding a bike.

He sensed more than saw or heard his opposition close in on him from his right as he ran over the center line. A quick glance in that direction told him that Zelenka was matching him stride for stride, which truly amazed him. He never would have thought the Czech scientist was so quick and nimble on his feet.

Before he could think about it any further Zelenka pushed into him with his left shoulder, nudging him roughly into the boards.

He never thought Zelenka could be so physically ruthless either. Zelenka had him pinned against the bluish-gray boards though they were still moving forward, and Chuck silently thanked McKay for making seamless boards.

Zelenka's stick knocking against his in an attempt to dislodge the puck brought his focus back to the matter at hand, specifically, moving the puck. Zhukov, one of the Russian military officers, was calling for the puck and with a flick of his wrists the puck went flying to the Russian's stick in a perfect tape to tape pass.

Chuck was still admiring the beautiful pass when he felt a sudden shove in his ribs from Zelenka that pushed the breath from his chest. As he stopped and doubled over to try to draw some precious, life-giving oxygen into his lungs, he looked over to see Zhukov fire a wrist shot at the net which was stopped by the glove hand of the goaltender.

Chuck closed his eyes and lowered his head to look at the floor. _"Now I remember why I stopped playing hockey!"_

It was then through the haze in his head created by pain and oxygen deprivation that he heard the voice of an angel.

"Are you okay, Chuck?"

All that went through his mind was McKay's stern warning when the team had assembled for their practice. _"Remember, if you get hurt, suck it up and at least act tough. If anyone else gets seriously hurt like Harrison, Colonel Carter and Doctor Keller will shut us down and all my hard work will go down the tubes and you know what that means…I WILL NOT be happy!"_

Chuck managed to nod in response to Doctor Keller's question. "Fine…thank…you," he managed in between gulps of air. "Wasn't paying attention…that's all."

"Stand up if you can," she said sympathetically, "then put your hands behind your head and try to take deeper breaths."

He did as she advised and a few moments later his breaths came much easier.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," said a remorseful Zelenka, who had come over to check on Chuck when the play was stopped.

"No problem, Doctor," said the gate technician honestly. "It was a good play."

Zelenka nodded his appreciation as Ronon asked, "So what kind of check was that again?"

"Ah, that was a shoulder to shoulder check," said Zelenka proudly. He took Ronon by the arm and guided him away from Keller and Chuck saying in a hushed voice, "If you shove a player against the boards and push your elbow out just so at the right moment…"

Chuck and Jennifer looked at each other and shook their heads in mutual amusement.

"How's the breathing coming?"

"Better," replied Chuck instantly. The rapidity of his response, while in fact accurate, was mostly brought on by the warning McKay had given him earlier.

"What's the trouble?" asked Sheppard. Chuck and Jennifer turned to see the Colonel, along with Colonel Carter and Teyla, walking towards them on the opposite side of the boards.

"Just had the wind knocked out of me, sir," replied Chuck. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Seeing the worried look in Carter's eyes he smiled and added, "No damage done, ma'am. Excuse me."

He jogged away from the small gathering as fast as he could without actually looking like he was trying to get the hell away from there.

"Is he all right, Jennifer?" asked Sam.

Jennifer turned to Sam and nodded. "He's fine."

"Are you playing…hockey…Doctor?" asked Teyla with her usual curiosity.

Jennifer shook her head and glanced to the group of players assembling at the center dot. "Rodney asked me to supervise this practice to make sure they understood my rules. So far, so good, with the exception of Chuck of course." She grinned and motioned towards Ronon with her head. "Even Ronon has been good. Rodney has taught him well it seems."

Sheppard looked around the room and frowned when he couldn't see Rodney anywhere. "Where is Rodney by the way?"

"I'm right here," came a muffled response.

All hands turned in the direction of the voice. Teyla merely smiled and raised her eyebrows in amusement, and Sam put her hand up to her mouth in a vain attempt to hide her humungous smile and stifle the laughter threatening to spill past her lips.

Sheppard on the other hand, did nothing of the sort.

He pointed at Rodney and laughed.

And laughed some more.

And laughed a little more.

Rodney remained still as he waited for his ex-friend to get it out of his system.

When Sheppard managed to limit his intense delight to sporadic chuckles he said, "There are way too many things I can say about this to pick just one."

Holding his goalie stick in his blocker hand, Rodney raised his left hand up and nipped his trapper between his body and right arm, then pulled his hand free from the glove. His hand then went up and lifted the goalie mask from his face so that Sheppard could see him roll his eyes. "As usual, Colonel, your humor is so juvenile that it has managed to elude me." Rodney balanced the mask on the butt end of his stick and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Just remember I know where you sleep." He narrowed his eyes for a second before adding, "Most of the time, that is."

Sheppard cleared his throat, painfully aware of the curious looks he was getting from everyone and motioned to Rodney with his right hand. "Figures you'd pick the position that would have you moving as little as possible."

Rodney shivered and his eyes opened wide for a second before narrowing to their normal diameter. "You sound disturbingly like the school guidance counselor who forced me into hockey in the first place."

Rodney immediately realized that his mouth had said something his brain hadn't vetted for possible embarrassment potential, and the bemused look on everyone's faces told him that the only course of action available to him was to explain. "She was worried that my BMI was a little off…"

"You were overweight," clarified Sheppard.

Rodney continued on as though Sheppard hadn't said anything. "So she asked if there were any physical activities that I liked."

"And Chess didn't count then either did it?"

"When I told her that there weren't really any sports I liked she picked hockey for me," continued Rodney, still adhering to his 'ignore it and it'll go away' plan.

"And you picked goalie?" Sheppard asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Sheppard, and like you she didn't truly appreciate the physical prowess and mental acuity needed to defend the goal." Rodney sighed as he recalled days long gone by. "It was quite a challenge, anticipating what players were going to do, taking into account your players' positions on the ice, the conditions of the ice and an empirical study of your opponent's habits." He cleared his throat when he realized he'd gone nostalgic on everyone. "In other words, there's more to it than just standing there and letting the puck hit you." He held out his stick to Jennifer. "Could you hold this please?"

Ignorant of the knowing looks that Sheppard, Carter and Teyla gave each other at his abnormally polite request, Rodney dropped his glove on the floor and knelt down next to it and began undoing the straps holding his pads to his legs. "It didn't take long for my weight to go down, and eventually my studies took precedence over hockey. Besides, the tremendous amount of sweat and the equipment did nothing to help my delicate skin." After a moment he stood up free from the goalie pads and reached over to retrieve his stick from Jennifer and placed it on the floor next to his pads and trapper.

"Why are you all here anyway?" he asked irritably.

"I thought you might have been caught up in your little thing here, so I wanted to remind you that we have an actual mission tomorrow morning," replied Sheppard. He looked to his watch and then back to Rodney. "And it's getting late."

"Well of course it's getting late," griped Rodney. "It doesn't usually get earlier does it? I was well aware of the time, thank you very much." He turned to Radek, who was still in the middle of the rink giving Ronon very detailed instructions on how to check dirty and get away with it. "Radek, when you're finished put my equipment away and power down the boards."

When the scientist nodded Rodney leaned over the boards into the bench area where the tablet that controlled the boards rested. He tapped a series of keys and the section of boards nearest the door disappeared. After righting himself he looked up to see the only person still waiting for him was Jennifer.

"Going my way?" she asked with a grin.

Rodney's overactive and understaffed when it came to women brain worked in high gear to check for innuendos and double meanings, but found none.

"Yes, I am," he replied and started walking towards the door. When they walked through the door Rodney quietly asked, "Jennifer?"

She looked at him curiously. "Yes, Rodney?"

He looked to her and had the grace to appear embarrassed when he asked, "What time is it?"

A moment later Radek and Ronon looked to the door at the sound of Keller's laughter.

Ronon looked to the Czech and asked, "Does that happen a lot?"

Radek looked up to the bigger man. "More than you might think." He shook his head in amusement and said, "Now, if your opponent is coming straight at you, you can put your stick in front of you like so and try a poke check…"


End file.
